


Come Together for the Bloodlines

by WildcatPacer



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildcatPacer/pseuds/WildcatPacer
Summary: When Katniss and Peeta lose their whole families in a cruel Quarter Quell Reaping, they must come together to save their families.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Come Together for the Families**

District 12 once again looks its picturesquely morose self as I finish up my hunting rounds.

Doesn't matter. I am going to die today.

I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier. Gale's Reaping and death in the 74th Hunger Games was debilitating. But then the the Third Quarter Quell, with its special quarter-century twist, sent me over the edge. The President announced just a matter of months ago: "On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that whole families were torn apart by the Rebellion, the tributes will have their entire families Reaped with them except for one. This is to preserve bloodlines and give potential for new life."

Rye Mellark, Peeta Mellark's older brother, was Reaped. His eldest brother, his mother and his father were thus all forced into the arena with him. Peeta was chosen as the spare to stay behind. And then Primrose got Reaped.

I wanted to volunteer, but no sound would come out. My mother was forced in alongside her youngest child. I was chosen as the spare.

Not exactly a smart move. I have vowed to never marry or have children, so now that Mother and Prim are dead and gone, I am certain that the Everdeen line will die with me.

And I will make sure of that today.

I go into the woods with my bow, after my rounds, dressed in my blue Reaping dress for dramatic effect, intending to shoot myself through. It will be difficult, but I line up the shot as best I can. I close my eyes and breathe in the pines one last time. Prim, I will be with you soon...

"Katniss? What are you doing?!"

I drop my bow, and the arrow with it, in shock; I didn't expect anyone else to be in the woods today. No one is really supposed to be, as this terrain is beyond the fence of the district, and technically illegal.

I realize my interloper is Peeta Mellark, the Baker's surviving son. He runs the Bakery now. Still single - though I can't imagine how, with his ashy blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

"You weren't trying to..." and he gapes at me in awe.

I glower at him. "Don't try to stop me," I snarl. "I'm amazed you aren't here joining me. We've lost a lot together." His best friend, Delly Cartwright, was Reaped alongside Gale and died.

Peeta shakes his head. "You have so much more to give, Katniss. You inspire so many people! You have no idea - the effect you can have. Why, if you died, I would want to die too! I would miss you!"

I stare at him for a moment, stunned by his words. But I quickly shake my head to clear it. "Ridiculous. Nobody would miss me. Nobody needs me."

"I do," Peeta says plaintively. "I need you."

I have gone to pick up my bow again, but stop at his expression that sounds so sincere. Curious, I now watch as he retrieves an envelope for his pocket. "I... came in here to pick some herbs for the bread. And also to clear my thoughts. I was on my way back to town to give you this." He holds it out to me. A letter.

I eye it suspiciously. This all sounds just a little too convenient. Could Peeta have followed me from the Hob or somewhere in the Town or the Seam? But it's always been in my nature to be suspicious of others, and Peeta Mellark is a kind boy. I remember how he would always treat Prim to small cakes from the bakery. He leads a worthy, honest profession and is good with his hands. Hard worker. Peeta would not offer this to me if he did have nefarious purposes.

But I still frown as I take the envelope from him and open it. Peeta watches me nervously as I unfold the letter inside. "Dear Katniss:" That's all I manage to read aloud, stunned by what I am reading as my eyes scan Peeta's words on the page. In the letter, he confesses how he has loved me since we were five years old, when I wore a red plaid dress to school and my hair was in two braids instead of the single one now running down my back. How I sang in Music Assembly and he fell for me then.

"I love you," Peeta courageously gets out when my eyes rise once to meet his. Moved, my eyes fill with tears.

"You love me?" I croak out.

He nods.

I had once taken a vow of chastity. Vowed I would never become a bride and especially not a mother. But I have nothing left, and Peeta is probably the only other person in this district who can share that pain. The pain of having no one left. So, I make my decision. I shakily nod once. "OK. Kiss me."

Peeta blinks, then steps forward as he cradles my face in his hands. Like a gentlemen, he gathers his bravery and gallantly dips me like a lady, pressing his lips softly to mine.

He tastes good, and I dare to close my eyes in pleasure, though I don't kiss him back. He tastes like the flour and yeast from the bakery. I've always loved those smells, along with the smells of the woods. I feel him hoist me back up to my feet and break the kiss. I open my eyes.

Seeing him, my gaze hardens and I lose my inhibitions. Assertively, I now dip Peeta in my arms and give him an intense French-kiss in return. It's a fair trade. A kiss for a kiss. And I know how to make a trade.

I swing him back up to his feet after a moment and reel back in breaking the kiss, gasping and a little scandalized at my own behavior. Peeta looks elated.

"Will you marry me, Katniss?"

I blink in utter astonishment. Having only kissed twice and he gives a proposal? But, if he's been in love with me since we were five, it's probably been a lifelong dream of his, to call me his wife. And it would at least keep the Mellark bloodline alive, which would otherwise die with Peeta. So, I grab his shirt collar and kiss him firmly on the lips once again. I even dip him once more, and this time slip my tongue into his mouth. I hum in pleasure. "Hmmmmmm..."

I keep Peeta in the dip when we break apart. "Yes," I hiss. "But no children." I won't break that vow. Not to see them go to the Games the way the rest of my family did. Peeta, of all people, will understand this. No matter how much he might want me.

Peeta raises his lips up to mine and kisses me again. Why is it that he and I can suddenly only communicate through kisses? But we soon collapse on the grass, me on top of him. Nervously, I dare to grind my hips once into Peeta's pelvis, and he moans. Encouraged, I grope for his straining bulge in his pants, and clasp his length. I pump the shaft, readying him for... what? Me? The texture of his foreskin feels firm under soft, warm flesh.

Peeta suddenly flips us in the grass. I feel my blue dress being pushed up nearly over my head, though it doesn't force Peeta and I to break our kiss that is now turning desperate and out of control. I feel calloused hands shove my white panties past my thighs, down to my ankles.

Peeta is now kissing all over my face and neck. I actually close my eyes in pleasure as I clasp him close. All at once, I gasp, as I feel Peeta's bulging member push into the folds of my vagina that, against my better nature, are sopping wet and throbbing for him.

Peeta's hands fist the grass around us, taking some of the tendrils of my brown hair with it. He begins to thrust in and out, in and out. My eyes fill with tears at the pain, and I kiss him even more deeply to get through the discomfort as he rides me. Soon, pleasure replaces the initial pain.

Peeta grunts, and throwing my long legs over his shoulders, he pounds into me. His thrusts are becoming shallower, more desperate, as something deep within my core finally breaks. I think I recall from our Family Planning classes in school that it is my hymen. I never paid attention too it closely, as I assumed such a thing would never break within me. At last, Peeta gives a sound like none I have ever heard from a man in heat as he orgasms inside of me. Though, he continues to thrust weakly even after he is empty, to get me off.

"Uhhh... UHHHHH! HUHHHHH!" I cry out like a dirty whore as I ejaculate around him, coating his member in my fluids. As Peeta pulls out of me, I feel strangely empty, so I kiss him deeply.

"Thank you," I rasp. Here I thought I was going to die today, and instead I lost my virginity. "For loving me. For being such a good man."

Peeta smiles tenderly. "You're welcome. Always."

"I'm not an easy girl to love," I bite my lip. "Are you sure you want that?"

Peeta pecks my lips once chastely, as we stand and redress. I can see the trails of our mixed blood and his semen coating my inner thighs. "I want all of you, Katniss."

"All right, then," I say gently. "I'll come by the bakery tonight. Have the bread ready."

* * *

I don my mother's wedding dress that evening. It is the ostentatious garb befitting a Merchant, as my mother grew up as one before marrying my father, a poor Seam miner. Her parents never intended for the dress to be used to marry across class lines.

Except now here I am, once self-considered an old maid, an unbeautiful spinster at the age of 17, preparing to wear this dress to marry back across class lines... to a Merchant. Even though I'm really half-Merchant myself.

When I arrive at the Bakery, I can see that Peeta has invited a few friends. The most notable guest is Haymitch Abernathy, the drunk who won the 50th Hunger Games. I nod cordially at him.

Kneeling by the fireplace, Peeta and I toast the bread, and seal our union with a kiss. That evening, up in his room, I let Peeta unclasp the garter I wore over and slide it past my thighs. Assertively, I mount my new husband in his bed and ride him, making love to him this time. Sex for sex. Just as we traded kisses for kisses.

* * *

I should have used protection. For it only takes a few night of lying with, sleeping with, my new husband, for me to feel movement stirring within my womb. My breasts soon begin to balloon. My stomach swells. I feel womanly changes transform my body until I am surly, glowing, frail, depending on my mood that day.

"I can no longer fool myself," I tell myself at last. "There is life with me."

I go to the Fallen Tributes' Graveyard to share the news with my family.

"There is life with me, Mother," I tell my mother's headstone. "The Everdeen line won't die with me after all."

Nine months later, I give birth to twins: a boy and a girl. I name Peeta's and my son Bannock, and our daughter Poppy. I am a Baker's wife now. And a mother. But I suppose there are worse things in this life.


	2. Come Together for the Children

**Chapter 2: Come Together for the Children**

_I should never have so impulsively had sex with him and gotten engaged to him_ , I decide as I hurry through the evening storm back towards the bakery.  _And I definitely shouldn't have borne his children. If you love someone, you will lose that person eventually._

Peeta and I had been married for not even a year when he was Reaped for the 76th Annual Hunger Games. I recall running into the Justice Building carrying our wailing infant children, and kissing him, begging him to come home.

Only he didn't. I blame Haymitch for that failure.

Now, I am a widow and a mother at only 18 years old. And having married into a Merchant family, there is no one else to run the Bakery. So I have taken up the task, to honor my late husband, in addition to hunting to feed our two small children.

I whip my hair out of my face as the rain pelts me, hurrying the last few feet into the warm bakery and safety. I set to work preparing the bread for tomorrow. Money is much tighter than it ever was when Peeta was still alive, and I wonder if I can keep the business going by myself. Bannock and Poppy will be old enough to help eventually, but that is still a few years off.

Just then, there is a clap of thunder, followed by the tinkle of the bell over the front door, as a customer comes rushing in. I am about to say that we are closed, when I look up and see who it is.

Darius Pontipee is noticeable in his Peacekeeper uniform and with his flaming red hair that comes down to his shoulders. He is probably the friendliest Capitol official in this entire district, always letting my illegal hunting deals slide. I smile in relief.

"Darius! Come on in from the storm."

He nods. He can't talk anymore. He used to, until a Peacekeeper confrontation with my husband - just a misunderstanding, a disagreement in which he came to Peeta's defense - caused his tongue to be cut out and he was turned into an Avox. He signs with his hands, asking me how I am doing.

"Fine. The children are asleep." At least he can still hear me.

Another sign. With how frequently Darius has frequented the bakery, I have learned sign language well. He has been a comfort ever since Peeta's death more than a year ago.

"You want me to sing?" I ask. He nods.

So I sign the Hanging Tree for him. A song my father taught me when I was young. When I finish, I suddenly hear guttural sounds coming from Darius. I put a hand to my mouth in shock. Is he trying to talk?

"I... love you, Katniss. Marry me." He comes forward and takes my hand in his.

I am stunned, but as I stare at him, I soon turn skeptical. I contemplatively run my hands through the tendrils of his red hair, and shock myself into actually thinking his proposal over. Darius is a good man, for someone who originally hailed from the Capitol. And being married to a Peacekeeper would help me financially, even give me protection from the District 12 government. And then there is the children to think about...

I gaze into Darius's warm blue eyes - not the same blue as Peeta's, but close. Even if I am unsure of my feelings now, maybe I can love this man in time.

"Isn't there some religion where you only have to say 'I marry you'... three times and... you're man and wife?"

"I marry you, I marry you, I marry you," Darius gets out with a struggle.

I smile. "Yes. I will marry you, marry you, marry you..."

Darius brushes a hand across my face as I touch his. He pulls me close. We hold the tableau for a moment, before I permit him to gently kiss me.

The kiss soon turns passionate, as his hands go about my waist and my arms drape his neck and splay across his back. As I, the Baker's wife, kiss this man, I only hope that my babies will stay asleep and not see what their Mommy is doing...

* * *

Darius and I Toast the bread with no guests this time. Well, except for Bannock and Poppy. That night, as my second husband (I can't believed I've married twice!) takes me to bed, he tells me a story through writing. About how his father was a Peacekeeper who married Cassiope Fletch, the first Victor from District 12, Victor of the 16th Hunger Games. And though I am not a Victor, at least Darius has found a bride like his father before him.


	3. Come Together for Economic Security

**Chapter 3: Come Together for Economic Security**

**Third Person POV**

Hazelle Hawthorne had lost much in her life. Her husband to a mining accident. Her oldest son to the 74th Hunger Games. And she still had to feed four young children on a washerwoman's salary. Thank goodness Haymitch Abernathy, the Victor of the 50th Hunger Games, paid her handsomely.

So she had been surprised when Mayor Undersee, who had lost his own daughter to the Games two years later, had summoned her to the Justice Building. He had lost his infirm wife to an illness not too long ago. Conditions in Twelve were so bad, it seemed everyone was dying left and right!

Entering the Mayor's office, she found him at his desk. "Ah, Hazelle! Have a seat."

She did.

"You still have four young children to feed, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you know I am a widower. Rich where you are poor. I have a proposition for you."

"Name it," Hazelle challenged.

"Would you be willing to Toast the bread with me to help feed your kids. Give you a better life?"

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Hazelle had heard of many marriages, especially in the Seam, that were platonic and only predicated on economic security. She could do the same. So she bravely nodded. "Yes."

And when Mayor Undersee kissed her - the first man she had kissed since she lost her husband - Hazelle kissed him back. They married in the Chief Clerk's office hours later, with no witnesses and no one from the media. And the Hawthorne's moved into Mayor Undersee's mansion.

The only person Hazelle told was Katniss Everdeen Mellark Pontipee, who knew what it was like to marry again.


End file.
